


A Part of Me

by Ilovecastiel18



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Dancing, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Gift Exchange, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Love, Other, Romance, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21949966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilovecastiel18/pseuds/Ilovecastiel18
Summary: Aziraphale suggests that he and Crowley do a gift exchange for their first Christmas after the not-pocalypse. Surprisingly, and unbeknownst to Aziraphale, Crowley has already gotten the angel a gift that he will never forget. Fluff. Nothing but fluff. Literally it’s only fluff. If you don’t like fluff don’t read this. One-Shot.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 67





	A Part of Me

**Author's Note:**

> As soon as I thought up this story, I knew exactly what I wanted Aziraphale to get Crowley, but I spent a good portion of the last hour trying to figure out what I wanted Crowley to get for Aziraphale. I hope I got it right, and I hope you enjoy the story! Merry Christmas!

**Disclaimer:** Good Omens, along with its characters, locations, etc. are the property of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchet. If I owned the rights to it, I wouldn’t still be desperate to meet the man that I absolutely ADORE: David Tennant.

……….

A Part of Me

……….

It had been about five months since the almost-end-of-the-world, which meant that seemingly every person on the planet was stringing up Christmas lights and putting big blow-up Santas and snowmen on their front lawns and porches. Usually, Crowley would be throwing a fit, stomping into the bookshop to complain just to find Aziraphale up on a step ladder stringing fairy lights across bookshelves and hanging ornaments on a big Christmas tree. This would leave Crowley to huff and trudge over to his flat to sleep until the holiday season was over.

This year, however, Crowley found that he couldn’t fault the humans for celebrating the holiday season. They didn’t realize how close they had been to extinction; how close the world had come to ending. Crowley had a sudden rush of pity for them; they spent their whole lives puttering around day after day, looking forward to the holidays as their only time of reprieve from the hassle of their short, meaningless lives.

Then, Crowley had a sudden realization that he had almost lost his best, his only friend, at the same time. So, this year, he didn’t feel like playing the real-life Grinch all around Soho; he really, honestly, wanted to take the time to buy Aziraphale a gift and spend the holiday with his best friend. The friend that he almost lost. If it wasn’t for the two of them, Adam, and the other humans, they wouldn’t even have the chance to spend any time together, let alone the holiday season. The holiday season wouldn’t even exist anymore; and neither would they, probably.

So, a couple of weeks before Christmas, Crowley found himself stomping around all of the little shops that lined the streets of Soho, walking dangerously close to the bookshop while he was trying to find a gift for his angel.

He kept thinking up ideas and then throwing them out instantly, because many of them were superficial, which was a part of his personality, or his act, anyway, that he was trying to forego completely. He didn’t want to give Aziraphale a cocoa set, or a pastry, or a new bowtie, because none of those things could ever truly represent how Crowley felt about Aziraphale. He loved the angel with his whole being, always had, and none of those superficial gifts could ever represent the vast ocean of feelings that the demon had spent most of his time on Earth trying to avoid.

So, after two hours of walking around in the cold, cursing his stupid brain and stupid winter and stupid Aziraphale for being so lovely, Crowley finally staggered into a jeweler’s just to warm up the tips of his ears and his blue fingertips.

As he looked around the shop, blowing on his fingers to warm them up, an older man, probably in his mid-sixties, and presumably the jeweler that owned the shop, came out from the back up to the counter, a magnifying lens strapped to the top of his head and flipped up so he could see.

“Good afternoon, young man. Can I help you with anything?” the man said politely.

“I just came in here to warm up, if that’s alright. I’m trying to get a Christmas present for my boyf- ahem, friend, and I can’t seem to find anything to suit him.” Crowley grumbled.

“Well, does this friend of yours wear any sort of jewelry?”

“He wears a lot of rings. Not in a goth way or anything, they’re nice rings. Represent him.” Crowley answered.

“Well, if I may be so crass, I do make very nice handcrafted rings. They’re my specialty. If you’d like to tell me about this friend, I’m sure we can design something wonderful.” The man responded, pulling a drawing pad and a mechanical pencil out from underneath the cash register.

_Hmm,_ Crowley thought, _that’s not such a bad idea…_

……….

It was two days before Christmas, and Crowley was stretched out over the couch in the back of Aziraphale’s shop, pretending to complain about the decorations that were spread from the front door all the way to the back room.

“Honestly, Aziraphale, the two of us are the only people that ever come back here! What’s the point of putting up all these Christmas decorations if nobody is even going to ‘enjoy’ them?” he was talking to the ceiling, head thrown back and glasses dangling from his fingers.

“I do it because I enjoy Christmas, Crowley. Maybe you would too if you took the time to enjoy it instead of complaining about every little thing before people even have the chance to decorate.” Aziraphale shot back, taking a sip of the peppermint cocoa that would never grow cold in his signature angel mug.

  
Crowley rolled his head to the side to give Aziraphale a side-eyed glance. “Someone’s crabby.” Crowley said nonchalantly, rolling his head back to where he had been staring at the ceiling.

“Well I’m sorry, dear, but I was really hoping to celebrate Christmas with you this year, gift exchange and all, but you always ruin it by complaining about the holidays and them going to your flat to sleep through the winter. I just thought that things would be different after the events of the summer.” He finished quietly.

Crowley sat in silence for a long time before he risked answering, lest he give away the fact that he had already gotten the angel a gift. “Okay. Deal. But only because we almost died this summer and I couldn’t… I wouldn’t… well, that would have been bad. But you certainly didn’t give me much time to find you a good gift, angel.”

“You don’t need to get me anything, Crowley, really. I just… well, I know what I want to give you, so I just wanted to make sure that you would be here on Christmas day, that’s all.” Aziraphale responded quickly.

“Of course I’m going to get you something, Aziraphale. I would never… well, I would be a bad friend if I didn’t.” Crowley shot back.

“My dear…”

“I’m getting you a gift. I’ll be here at five o’clock in the evening on Christmas day. We’ll make a night of it. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Crowley stood from the couch in one fluid movement, sliding his glasses on as he did so and heading for the door. “I have to find you a Christmas present!”

……….

Crowley pulled up in front of the bookshop at exactly 4:58 in the evening on Christmas day, his fingers fiddling with the little box in his pocket as he locked the Bentley and walked through the front door. He had picked up the ring when he left the bookshop two days before, and had brought it back to his flat to wrap. He had wrapped the ring box in dark red and black tartan wrapping paper, with a little gold bow on top.

He was nervous, he wasn’t sure that Aziraphale would like the gift. Well, he knew that Aziraphale would like it, but he wasn’t sure that the gift would have the affect he wanted. He wanted the angel to be so blown away that he would agree to dance with Crowley. That’s all Crowley had ever wanted: to dance with Aziraphale. And he was hoping that he would have enough courage after the gift exchange to ask.

As soon as Crowley stepped through the door, there was a flurry of movement in the back and Aziraphale came bustling out to greet him, a tinge of pink in his cheeks as he fiddled with his waistcoat.

“Crowley, dear, um… well come on back.” Aziraphale flushed red as he turned and bustled back behind the curtain that separated their space from the rest of the shop. Crowley gave a small smile as he followed the adorable angel back.

Crowley had to force himself not to gasp as he rounded the corner. Aziraphale had laid out two champagne flutes and two wine glasses, complete with a bottle of vintage wine and a bottle of expensive champagne. He had also lit candles, which gave the room an even softer glow that the dusty lights on the ceiling, which were currently switched off. Crowley’s gift sat at the end of the coffee table, in a glossy black gift bag with silver snowflakes on it. Crowley carefully pulled the small box out of his pocket and set it next to his own gift, sitting upright on the couch instead of sprawling like he usually did.

The setting had a very romantic feeling to it, which was something that Crowley was grateful for but definitely hadn’t expected. This made him feel like he really had a chance to get Aziraphale to dance with him.

“Oh Crowley, I hope you didn’t spend to much on that gift. I have a feeling that the smaller the gift, the more expensive it is.” Aziraphale wrung his hands, sitting on the edge of his chair.

“Angel, if I’m being completely honest, you’re worth more than any money I could have possibly spend.” Crowley replied, looking down at the floor so Aziraphale couldn’t see the blush that spread across his cheeks.

“Oh, dear…” Aziraphale replied sheepishly. He reached out a slightly-trembling hand and opened the bottle of champagne, filling the flutes halfway with the golden liquid and handing one to Crowley. Crowley accidently (on purpose) made their fingers brush against each other as he took the glass from the angel.

“What should we toast to, my dear?” Aziraphale asked, once the blush had receded from his plump cheeks. “The world?”

“I think we should toast to something that is far more special than that…” Crowley replied. “To us.”

“To us.” Aziraphale whispered, tapping his flute against Crowley’s and taking a sip of the bubbly drink.

There was a pause as Aziraphale fiddled with the bottle of champagne, until Crowley finally cleared his throat and spoke. “This doesn’t have to be awkward, Aziraphale. I know you’re probably uncomfortable because of how… romantic this is, but I’m not bothered. You shouldn’t be either. This is perfect. I’m… so lucky to be spending the holiday with you.”

This caused Aziraphale to blush, so Crowley set his glass down with a clink and clapped his hands together. “Presents!” he yelled, making Aziraphale jump and forget his embarrassment.

“Oh yes, right. If it’s alright with you, will you open yours first?” Aziraphale asked quietly.

“I’ll never be one to turn down a present, angel.” Crowley winked at Aziraphale as he carefully pulled his present toward him and started taking the tissue paper off the top piece by piece.

What he pulled out was something that he definitely hadn’t expected.

Aziraphale had gifted him a replica of his angel mug, except in all black instead of white. Inside the mug, there were an assortment of flowers that were planted in rich, probably magically enhanced, soil. There were four different kinds of flowers that filled the mug in a lovely arrangement: hyacinth, primrose, tulips, and red roses. “This is… this is gorgeous, Aziraphale.” Crowley turned the mug carefully in his hand to look at the flowers from different angles.

“I know that plants without flowers are more your thing, Crowley, but all of these flowers have a specific meaning that I wanted to convey to you.

“The hyacinth represents the soul. It is supposed to convey clarity and wisdom, things I think we have both gained from the Apocalypse.

“The primrose represents emotional rebirth, because I think you were reborn again after what happened. You were never a bad person, you were never like the other demons, but now I think that you have change into a whole new being. You’re more aware, more experienced, and you act that way. I’m grateful for the new you, no matter how much I cared about the old you.

“The tulips are supposed to represent guardian angels. There’s not really such a thing, obviously, but I think my position as a Principality and as the Angel of the Eastern Gate is as close as the world has gotten to a guardian angel. And now I want to be that for you. I want to be there for whatever you need, whenever you need it, until the end of time.

“Because, as the red roses represent… I love you.

“I know it’s sappy, dear, and I know that’s not exactly something that you’re comfortable with, but I couldn’t go any longer feeling the way that I do, knowing that Heaven and Hell could come for us at any moment and I could never get the chance. I love you.” Aziraphale stared at the floor when he got to the end of his speech, a blush spreading above his collar and curling around his ears. Crowley carefully set the mug down on the coffee table and silently reached out a hand to the angel.

Aziraphale reached for it cautiously, carefully wrapping his hand around Crowley’s and allowing himself to be pulled around the coffee table to sit on the couch next to the demon. Crowley wrapped an arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders and pulled him against his side, plating a chaste kiss to the angel’s temple. “Open your gift, Aziraphale.” He whispered.

Aziraphale bent forward and carefully plucked the box from where it had been sitting at the edge of the coffee table, leaning back against Crowley as he delicately tore off the wrapping paper. He held the ring box in his hand for a long time without opening it. “Crowley, you really shouldn’t have…”

“Just open it, angel. Please.” Crowley responded.

Aziraphale carefully flipped the box open, sitting up from where he was leaning against Crowley so he could get a better look.

Inside, there was a thin silver ring that was shaped like a snake, the head and tail coming up at the top to coil around a citrine stone that perfectly matched the color of Crowley’s eyes. There were two beautiful angel wings sculpted to either side of the stone.

“Oh Crowley, this is…” Aziraphale was at a loss for words, tears pooling in his eyes.

“I had the jeweler imbed a few strands of my hair into the ring. If you look really closely, you can see it braided through the silver.” He paused as Aziraphale held the ring up to one of the candles to see the fiery red strands imbedded in the silver. “I know it’s not a simple ring, which is usually your style, but I wanted to give you something that really represents us. And this way, no matter what happens, you’ll always have a part of me with you.”

Aziraphale let a tear drip from his eye as he slipped the ring onto his finger; it fit perfectly.

“What I’m trying to get at, angel, is that I love you too. Always.” Crowley continued, reaching out and lightly grasping Aziraphale’s free hand as he continued to admire the ring.

Aziraphale took a few minutes to compose himself before he turned back to his demon and gave him a watery smile. “There is no way a jeweler could have made this in two days, Crowley. Especially during the holidays.”

“I ordered it weeks ago. I picked it up the other day when you suggested we do a gift exchange. I couldn’t go another year without telling you how I felt either, angel. I love you.” Crowley gently pulled Aziraphale toward him and planted another kiss to the angel’s temple. Crowley snapped his fingers and willed the record player to start playing a slow Christmas song, something he could dance to.

“Angel, may I have this dance?” Crowley asked quietly.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, my love.” Aziraphale stood and held out his hand, pulling Crowley off the couch and into his arms. They grasped hands, Crowley placing his other hand on Aziraphale’s waist and Aziraphale placing his on Crowley’s shoulder.

They swayed slowly to the music, more focused on each other than the tune that was playing softly around them. They found their own rhythm, a new closeness between them. The record player stopped after a few songs because Crowley stopped focusing on making it play, and yet they kept dancing, swaying to their own song. Crowley gently kissed Aziraphale’s forehead, and realized that he was the happiest that he had ever been.

And that was the best Christmas present he could ever receive.


End file.
